05 August, 2005
ooh, that smell

sometimes i just have to marvel at this whirring, clattering, careening thing that resides between my ears.

since the 84-mile trip through the dark tunnel of early Thursday morning seems to be the only exercise of imagnation i'm afforded, anymore (with notable exception), the avalanche of swoonifying music, furtive glances for blue roof lights and truly goofy ideas rarely make it back to consciouness when i've finally landed... too often, they never make it here, either.

i remember taking rides in the backseat with my grandmother (who i never saw drive a car)... one of her "talents" aka "peccadilloes" was to recite the contents of every sign that passed by her window whenever we went someplace, together. every sign. incessantly.

now, i loved this woman. she fed me, helped teach me right from wrong, clothed me, made sure i was spoiled in small ways. but i had to consciously refrain from taking umbrage to her eccentricity... which was probably a defense mechanism against my mother's horrifying driving, anyway.

but, her mind was active. she was content in inanity.

turns out, i must've acquired the same gene... though i've mutated it into finding vulgar twists in signage. i've given up ridiculing the advertising on the local crab shacks... the joke's already told when you read "i got my crabs from Gas&Stuff".

if nothing else, it helps put places on the map when you forget where you are in the dark.

lately, though, i've found other amusements that are indicative of locale.

smells.

you don't regularly read prose that tries to describe scents/fragrances/odors/stenches, so this is must be unique in the annals of journaldom (or just incredibly stupid). plus, just try to recall and describe smells... like trying to remember detail about orgasms,huh? but, once leaving the urban wasteland, which is devoid of any stimulation to the nose, whatsoever (sterile, just as the whitebread legions of StepfordFamilies intended), the outer reaches of the country never disappoint.

there are two places in particular, that are forever defined by the smell that is theirs, and theirs, alone.

the stretch of highway that passes by DullesAirport provides the first reminder that my nose, indeed, has a purpose other that filtering air. but it's not much of a reward.
there's something uncanny and wrong about the scent of the air, passing by the huge tank farms, right next to the highway. until last week, i couldn't put my finger on(in) it.

instead of the pungent-sweet citric odor of petroleum, signifying peril at any sparks being present (or people with bad intentions... i hope they're guarded intently. yeah, right), rather the scent present is undeniably identical to: the smell of a tomato and mayonnaise sandwich that's been sitting out all afternoon. really. slightly decayed tomato and vinegary-eggy mayo. if i ever have the dubious experience of encountering one of those things, the tank farm will be the first thing i think of.

just past the intersection that passes by route 666, where i never cease to superstitiously shudder every time i go past, is another olfactory place on the map. and as annoying as the former location, it's a rose garden compared to what's next. the water treatment plant just outside of the townofCulpeper.

i've mentally refered to it as StankyTown... RetchVille... Smegma... the fragrance is truly remarkable, and held hostage by the low spot in the hills. so remarkable, in fact, that i roll the windows up and either hold my breath as long as is humanly possible, or ram my nose into my shirtsleeve to filter out the funk.

and i do mean Funk.

i know the habits of my countrymen, including their food intake... which makes the experince all the more horrible. to whit: it's as if everybody flushed at once, after a binge of pizza, twinkies, doritos, chili... all chased by large quantities of MountainDew and cheap whiskey. the scent clings to the car for miles, and the mists that cross the road, i believe, are manifestations of these odors taking visible form. fear them.

i think grandmother would've fainted.

and i have to remember it all.

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